Life of the Game
by Melly-chan
Summary: Yaoi, Truten, the boys get kidnapped and some... unfortunate events occur, will they ever survive?


This has to be the longest story I have written yet, but that is okay it turned out pretty good if I do say so myself. It is, as usual, a yaoi featuring Goten and Trunks. Don't bite off more than you can chew, and leave now if the main course makes you gag. Now on with the story!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Life of the Game

  
  


By: Melly-Chan

  
  
  
  


The football soared across the sky in a perfect arc, trailing across each acre of land like it was feet. A pair of strong hands reached out into the air and grasped the ball during its descent toward the earth. The ball was pulled in and pressed against a muscular yet lean chest. With a pitch forward, the boy, who was nearly a man, dove to the ground, sending the football over the goal line.

  
  


A cheer rang up over the crowed of boys, followed by the groan of the offending team. They had been bested once again and they could not deny it, this time, that they had not been cheated. All was fair, they had lost.

  
  


The boy in the end zone picked himself up and punched his fists into the air with a manly cry of victory. Soon he was swarmed by his fellow teammates and hoisted up to their shoulders. The crowed was going crazy with the show, the close win, and the celebration of the boys out on the field. 

  
  


"Ya know, I don't know why we even bother to come to these dumb games. They always turn out the same no matter who wins."

  
  


"Humor me for a second Trunks, I wanted to find out who would win." Goten said then picked up his sports broadcaster voice, "You never know who will win the title, and boys and girls, this is a day for history, yes, everyone will want to see the outcome of this game."

  
  


Trunks rolled his eyes. "Give me a break, Goten. It's high school football, nobody cares. Especially not me."

  
  


"Dende, where is your loyalty to the school?"

  
  


"I left it in the lockeroom with all the pigheaded, sweat drenched, fart assed athletes. Sorry Goten, but the fate of this planet does not depend on who wins the 'all important' rival school football game."

  
  


"True, but I heard Mr. Edea was going to have a bonus question of his exam over who wins."

  
  
  
  


"Good, than all I needed was to beat up the next jock I met and get the bonus question answer from him."

  
  


"Dende, you don't have to be so sarcastic. Lets go."

  
  


The boys walked out of the stadium and into the parking lot, still bickering. The oversized lot was cramped with cars and hundreds of people were meddling around, taking their sweet time in locating their vehicle. Others that had beaten them were swearing under their breath and banging their frustrated fists against the side of the car, waiting for the way to be clear for them to pull out and go home.

  
  


Trunks pulled his coat in closer around him. The air was chill, giving sign to the cold winter that was going to show itself by the end of the month. The summer had been particularly hot, now the winter was going to counter that by being extra cold. 

  
  


Their car was in the back, far away from the gate and any anti-jock vandal who make a sport out of decorating cars with their own opinions of the throws of football. Neither of the boys could blame them for their opinion, but they were weary of finding their car in any state but that they had left it in.

  
  


Goten nudged Trunks in the side and angled his head in the direction of one car that had been unfortunate enough to be at the receiving end of the football anthem. It was a small Acord, white and meticulously clean, except for the smears of red lipstick that adorned the windows and doors. The name of the visiting school had been painted all across the car with the ultimate #1 sign.

  
  


The payback from a school that excelled in spelling, but who sucked at football.

  
  


Trunks shook his head and pulled is keys out of his pocket. Although he could have had any car he wanted, better judgment got the best of him and he decided on a car that would not stand out amidst the high school crowd. It was a small red sports car, wisely not a convertible, but relatively new, only slightly used, and just enough room for two teenage boys.

  
  


"We are never going to get out of here." Goten said, looking at the traffic that claimed both the parking lot and the street outside the stadium grounds. "We would probably be better off flying home."

  
  


"What would we do about my car, smart ass? Leave it here? I am not leaving my car out here with all these sports crazed lipstick lovers. Sorry, no, we're driving."

  
  


"Fine, you're the one with the calculus test tomorrow."

  
  


"Ya, but I'm not the one who is going to fail it."

  
  


"So? I always fail it."

  
  


"But you're the one who is going to have to tell Chichi that."

  
  


Goten flinched and glanced at the traffic again. "Do you have a spare book in your car?"

  
  


Trunks laughed and unlocked the door, not even bothering to point to the book in the back seat. He knew it would do no good. It had been a wonder that Goten had gotten that far, but the burst of intelligence was over and they were left with their ditzy, Goku wannabe. 

  
  


"Ya know, the least they could have done at these games was have good cheerleaders. I mean, come on, they sucked. They weren't even cute."

  
  


"Goten, only you would compare what a girl looks like to how well she performs."

  
  


"Oh, ya, you're one to talk. How many girls have wound up in your bed, and how many out of them did NOT get there because they would not 'perform' good?"

  
  


Trunks had the decency to blush before he socked his best friend in the arm. "Shut up, virgin."

  
  


Goten's face tightened in anger. "I just haven't gotten around to it."

  
  


"Right, your problem is that you can't get a girl who is willing."

  
  


"I can too! You're the one who has fucked everyone and their sister."

  
  


"I have not, I happen to be very particular about who I sleep with."

  
  


"Your hand doesn't count, Trunks."

  
  


"Do you want to walk home?"

  
  


"I'd get there faster for one thing. But, oh, I hit a soft spot. So Trunks, when did you get Jergens?"

  
  


"That's it, get out of the car!"

  
  


"I was only joken. Man, you can dish it out, but damn you can't take it."

  
  


Trunks growled and maneuvered the car out of the parking space, taking advantage of a distracted car to push his way onto the street. 

  
  


"Goten, I am never letting you talk me into doing this again."

  
  


"Fine, it was the last game of the season and we're not going to be here next year."

  
  
  
  


"Damn straight, as soon as I graduate I am getting my ass as far from here as possible."

  
  


"How far?" Goten asked looking out the window, but not concentrating on his surroundings.

  
  


"Halfway around the world would not be far enough."

  
  


Goten remained silent. They finally made it onto the freeway and were heading out into the country. Goten's house was out of the way to Trunks's and it surprised Goten that he would make the extra trip to get him home. Usually he would go straight home and leave Goten to fly the rest of the way.

  
  


Trunks drove with his eyes locked onto the road, not looking at the passenger beside him. It had been just one of their usual squabbles, but he could feel that he had hurt his friend somehow, but for the life of him he could not figure out what he had said that would cause this silence.

  
  


The forest crept up around them, completely shutting them off to society. They were alone as far as their surroundings were concerned, and yet both boys remained silent, lost in their own thoughts and emotions. The silence became uncomfortable and Goten shifted in his seat, unsure about what to say.

  
  


They had been friends for years, always able to tell each other everything. But now it had become hard for Goten to talk to him. They hadn't been as close as they use to be, school was pulling them apart and forcing them in different directions. The only class they had together was calculus and Goten was forced to pay attention at all times. Outside of class, they had started meeting new friends and hanging out with different people. Their time together had diminished significantly and Goten found himself making excuses to be with his best friend. Such as the football game, he was not a fan of the school, and he knew Trunks wasn't either, but he had needed something for them to be able to do together. It was the best excuse he could come up with at the time.

  
  


With finals around the corner he knew that his time with Trunks was only going to diminish farther. He had always been particular about his grades and he would be cramming every night to maintain them. That left Goten alone to his own studies and personally he was not enthusiastic about acing every test. It just wasn't his style.

  
  


Trunks pulled off the dirt road and into a drive way. The light on the porch was left on, waiting for Goten's return. He sighed at the sight, thinking of his over protective mother, and looked over to Trunks.

  
  


He was still ignoring him. The car stopped and Goten leaned back in the seat.

  
  


"Trunks…"

  
  


"Look, Goten, I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have taken offence…"

  
  


"No, man, I'm sorry I insulted you pretty bad."

  
  


"Ya, you did." Trunks flashed him a smirk. "But we're cool, right?"

  
  


"Ya, we're cool."

  
  


The two friends clasped hands, they were both still shaky on the truce, but they knew they could still be friends. That would not end. 

  
  


Goten got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. With a short wave behind him, he walked up to the front of the house. He could hear the car pulling out behind him, and ignored it as he opened the door and walked inside.

  
  


Trunks could not put off the argument as fast as Goten could. It festered in his mind as he started home. Goten had been acting weird lately and so far he could not make out why. It bothered him, their separation, but there was nothing he could really do about it. He was a busy person, homework, school, and CC used up almost all of his free time. There was nothing he could do about it. 

  
  


School had always been important. His mother had convinced him early on that in order to be a successful president of CC, he would have to get good grades and prove to his customers that he was competent and able to handle as big a responsibility as running a company. In order to do that he had to study and constantly be at the top of his class. He had to earn his inheritance.

  
  


It was never easy. The more he tried to do, the more work he was given. To stay on top, he had to excel at everything. He learned quickly and it was often hard for the teachers to keep up with him, so to solve that, they gave him more work than the average student. Adding this homework on to an already busy schedule and soon Trunks had no time left to himself, let alone spending time with his best friend.

  
  


But that would all end when they graduated. It was drawing closer to the time that they would walk the line. Then he would take over CC and hopefully have more time on his hands. Then he could give Goten the attention that he wants.

  
  


Until then, they had to survive as they were.

  
  


Trunks glared at the trees around him. Who did Goten think he was anyway? It wasn't as if he had decided to abandon his best friend. They use to hang out at break and between classes, but then Goten had met Chris and everything changed. He didn't come around anymore. He spent all of his time kissing up to the dumb jock and none talking to his old best friend. Why they even went to Chris's last game, the rival game, and witnessed him make the final touchdown.

  
  


That will probably give them plenty to talk about over the next week.

  
  


It wasn't like he cared, Trunks assured himself. He didn't care about being one out by the cow faced muscle brain, he was just angry that he lost his best friend to someone who's breath smells like a half dozen rotten eggs in the middle of summer. Phew! How could you not smell that? Even his teachers wore nose plugs and whenever he went to the office, they sent him home.

  
  


It would have been wiser to send him to the dentist.

  
  


The trees opened up and he was back on the road. It was still some distance to his house, but he didn't mind the extra drive. He didn't really need to study for the calculus test, he already knew all there was to know. It was just his way to give Goten a hard time. It was easier to pick on him than to try and make some kind of conversation. What did they have to talk about anyway? They had known each other their entire lives. Everything they could have ever had to talk about had already been discussed. There was nothing else.

  
  


So they picked at each other. It was a form communication and as far as Trunks was concerned, it kept their friendship.

  
  


Their friendship that was on the verge of dying out. How could he have not seen it? The signs had been right in front of his face for years, but he had ignored them. There was nothing to talk about, they argued, and they spent most of their time either in someone else's company or in a silence that would leave them both fidgety and wishing they were anywhere but there.

  
  


So what was he to do? Goten was still his best friend, nothing would change that. But how would he get his best friend back? There had to be a way to get them close together again.

  
  


The first thing he had to do, was talk to him.

  
  


Trunks's house appeared in front of him, and he decided that the next day, they would sit down and have a nice long talk.

  
  


For now, Trunks was going to wash his hair and get into bed, that game had been the most boring thing he had ever seen, and he wanted to wash the stadium dirt out of his hair.

  
  


He threw his keys onto the table by his bedroom door and pulled his shirt off. Not even bothering to toss it into the hamper, he dropped it onto the ground and walked across the room to his bathroom. Trunks kicked off his shoes before opening the bathroom door and lazily turning on the light. The light flickered and burned out, leaving the room dark.

  
  


With a groan, Trunks felt around the room. Several bottled fell over on the self when his questing hands stumbled and groped blindly for the face wash. More bottles fell over and a resounding crash came from somewhere near his feet.

  
  


Swearing under his breath, Trunks felt around for a cloth. The hair drier was next to fall, and it landed on his foot. 

  
  


"Ah! Damn! Okay, I can take a hint! I'll shower in the morning."

  
  


Careful not to knock anything else over, Trunks left the bathroom and went into his own room. Rubbing his hands over his face, he attempted to rub the darkness from them and readjust to the light.

  
  


Trunks slipped his belt from around his waist and unbutton the top of his jeans. He felt restless. The night was not soothing him and he felt like he could stay awake for all eternity. A quick glance to the bed left a feeling of repulsion and Trunks knew that he would not be getting much sleep.

  
  


There was only one thing to do. He walked out of his room, mindless to his state of undress, and headed for the lab. Some good hard work would leave him refreshed and ready to face sleep.

  
  


He hopped down the stairs, feeling an odd sense of adrenalin coursing through his veins, and he mentally prepared himself for the work ahead. For months he had been working on a pet project, now was as good a time as any to pick that back up and try to figure out what had gone wrong.

  
  


Trunks snapped the light on and waited a second, unsure it would stay on. Rolling his eyes at his own stupidity, he walked into the lab and sat before his invention. It was fairly large, not large enough to be a hindrance when transporting but large enough for it to be bulky and uncomfortable. 

  
  


He would work on that after he got it working.

  
  


The frustration had come from having to find a way to test it properly. He didn't have all of the resources he needed and that complicated his work. Two months ago, he had been snooping around in his mother's old documents when he found this invention. When he built it, it didn't work. At all. So he began to make adjustments and changes trying to make it work.

  
  


So far he had had no luck.

  
  


It was suppose to be a translator that would instantly distinguish a language after hearing it for only moments and then be able to make a clear translation. Trunks only knew two languages besides his first language and neither one had worked in translation. After a few tries he had been successful in building in the language, but that meant that he had no way of testing on a different language.

  
  


It was frustrating. The box would not work and so far it was entirely too bulky for his liking. All around, it was a failure.

  
  
  
  


But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

  
  


Setting the box in front of him, Trunks began to play around with the wires and language chips. He relocated an inefficient chip and tightened another.

  
  


Trunks didn't even hear it when the door opened and a figure looked in on him.

  
  


"What are you doing up, brat? Don't you have a bed time?" Vegita snorted.

  
  


Trunks bit his lip, concentrating. Vegita rolled his eyes, slightly amused at how his son had turned out, and turned to leave. Before he could close the door, Trunks raised his head and called out, "Hey, dad?"

  
  


"What do you want, brat?"

  
  


"Say something in Saiyan."

  
  


Vegita blinked but kept his outward, impassive look. He reentered the room and attempted to look around Trunks to what he was working on. "Why?"

  
  


"I'm working on this invention and I need a language I don't know." Trunks didn't see his father flinch and look away. "Just say anything."

  
  


Vegita garbled out something in Saiyan that sounded very guttural and rasp. Trunks held the earpiece up and listened intently. 

  
  


With a frustrated pout, Trunks threw the earpiece back on the bench and began to work on the box again. More wires were pushed around and for a moment he considered taking out the translations chip and reformat the bothersome thing. It couldn't be any good the way it was working and perhaps if he started on it from scratch he would be able to figure out a better way for it to work.

  
  


But that would take time and as it was this project had taken him more time than he thought it would.

  
  


"What is that thing?"

  
  


Trunks looked up, startled. He had forgotten that Vegita was still there.

  
  


"Nothing, I was just trying to create a translator, but it isn't working."

  
  


"Why not?"

  
  


"I don't know. But it was trying to tell me you said something like 'The toast is in the bathroom' and I seriously doubt you would say that."

  
  
  
  


Vegita snorted and looked at his son. They were so different. The only thing they had in common was the shape of their face, and eyes. But their personalities were different enough to make him wonder.

  
  


He was like his mother, there was no doubt about that. Fighting had never been a passion for him, more of a way to stay in shape. His passion was in creating. And damned if anyone ever knew it, but Vegita was proud of his son.

  
  


"Dad?"

  
  


"What?"

  
  


Trunks leaned back in his seat. "What was it like? In space?"

  
  


"Why?"

  
  


"I don't know, I've just been thinking about it lately. What it is like to be out among the stars."

  
  


"Don't concern yourself with space, brat. You don't need to worry about that." With one more glance, Vegita left.

  
  


Trunks folded his arms and lowered his eyebrows. What did that answer mean? What didn't he have to worry about?

  
  


What had happened to him?

  
  


Shaking himself out of it, Trunks returned to his machine and scrambled some more wires.

  
  


The next morning, Trunks woke up with his head on the box and his arms wrapped around it. He slowly blinked his eyes and looked around him. 

  
  


"Dende, what time is it?" There was no clock in that room. He wondered how many times he had thought that room needed a clock, but then he remembered what he had done to the last one. Flinching, Trunks got up and walked out of the room.

  
  


The house was empty and it felt late. Muttering another curse, Trunks looked at the clock. 

  
  


School had started two hours ago. Trunk dropped his head onto the heals of his hands and then ran his fingers through his hair. He had missed the calculus test. With a glance toward the screen door, Trunks rolled his eyes and vetoed the idea of asking his father why he had let him sleep in.

  
  


"Oh, well, I guess I needed a day off."

  
  
  
  


Trunks walked up the steps and to his bedroom. He still felt dirty, more so after not bathing the night before and then sleeping in the lab. So he took a long, luxurious shower, savoring the heated water on his skin. 

  
  


Stepping out of the shower, Trunks ignored his wet hair and wrapped a towel around his waist. Only then did he notice the state his bathroom was in. He flinched and shook his head. The room was in disarray with bottles all over the floor and a broken cologne bottle was laying in the middle.

  
  


"Damn, I liked that one."

  
  


Careful to step over the mess, Trunks walked into his room and tugged on some pants. Not bothering with a shirt, Trunks make quick work of the mess in the bathroom and headed back down to the lab.

  
  


"Aren't you suppose to be in school?"

  
  


Trunks stopped, only feet away from the lab and turned to his father. Vegita had just come inside from his workout and was dripping sweat.

  
  


"Um, I kinda slept in."

  
  


"Lazy brat. You're too human. Well, get changed."

  
  


"For what?"

  
  


"Don't ask questions!" Vegita snapped. "You're training today."

  
  


"Oh." Was all Trunks said before he hurried up the stairs and changed into his workout clothes.

  
  


For several hours Trunks and Vegita trained. Well actually Vegita trained, Trunks got beat up.

  
  


"You're getting soft, brat."

  
  


"I haven't had time."

  
  


Vegita snorted. "True Saiyans can make time."

  
  


"Ya, well if you wouldn't mind making me some time because I am swarmed with work."

  
  


"Make your own damned time."

  
  


When the training was finished, Vegita came out with a triumphant smirk; Trunks came out with various bruises all over his body and an empty stomach.

  
  


"Man, I haven't eaten all day." Trunks commented, then scurried around in the kitchen for a quick meal. After laying a large assortment of food on the counter, Trunks realized that his father was in the kitchen with him. "You want something too? I might be able to scrounge up a few things."

  
  


"Whatever." Trunks mentally translated that into a yes and set to work making a meal big enough for two full-grown Saiyans.

  
  


When they were both settled down and eating, Trunks looked over to his dad. "What did you mean? Last night?"

  
  


"None of your business, brat."

  
  


"But what did you mean? What happened to you?"

  
  


"I said it was none of your business!"

  
  


"Fine." Trunks continued to eat, but it still plagued him. No one knew about Vegita's life before he came to Earth. He supposed that nobody had pressed enough to find an answer, but it bothered Trunks that there was so much that he didn't know about his own father.

  
  


"What were my grandparents like?"

  
  


Vegita stopped eating looked up. He studied Trunks for a moment before setting down the remains of his sandwich and leaning back in his chair. "I don't know." He said before standing up and leaving the room.

  
  


Trunks looked after him, baffled as to what he was thinking. What had he gone through?

  
  


A knock at the front door brought him around to the real world and Trunks jumped up to answer it.

  
  


Goten stood, relaxed, in the doorway. "Hey, what happened? You didn't come to school."

  
  


"Ya, I know. I slept in on accident."

  
  


"Looks like you have been training."

  
  


"Dad found me."

  
  


"Ah." 

  
  


Trunks shifted his weight and bit his lip. He knew he had to talk to him, but how was the question.

  
  


"Say, Goten?"

  
  


"Ya?"

  
  


"We haven't been to close lately have we?"

  
  


"No we haven't."

  
  


"Do you think… I mean…. Well, everything will be back to normal after grad."

  
  


"Really." Goten said sarcastically. "You will be taking over CC. You're going to have even less free time."

  
  


"So? It's not like we will never see each other. I mean, come one, it's not like we depend on each other to survive. We will just make other friends, that all."

  
  


"Other friends. Right."

  
  


"No, I don't mean it like that Goten."

  
  


"Whatever, you know, I knew you were growing apart, but if you don't want my friendship, than just say it."

  
  


"Goten, I don't mean that."

  
  


"Than what do you mean?"

  
  


"I still want us to be friends, but I want you to realize that I can't always be there."

  
  


Goten shook his head. "How many people have you given that line to, hm?" He turned away and walked across the lawn.

  
  


Trunks broke out of his momentary stupor and raced after him. "Goten!"

  
  


Goten stopped and turned. "I don't want to talk about it."

  
  


"To bad!"

  
  


"Go to hell, Trunks. I thought you were my friend."

  
  


"I am! I just-"

  
  


Trunks looked up behind Goten and his words died in his throat. Goten turned around, confused by his behavior, and saw it.

  
  


He didn't know how it could have gotten by and not have been detected. It was such an obvious thing, and it was huge, enormous even. It was easily the length of ten football fields and almost three stories high. The thing just sat in the air, suspended and unmoving. The wind picked up out of no where and the boys stood firmer to avoid being moved by the increasing strength.

  
  


A light flashed somewhere on the ship and Trunks looked over at Goten. He had a bad feeling, but something was unsettling him more and he couldn't figure it out. The light turned on what appeared to be full force and swept around in a great arc until it came to the boys. It settled over them and the wind died down.

  
  


Goten glanced behind and saw Vegita getting closer, but before he got anywhere near them, the light flashed and they were no longer on the grass in front of CC. They were in a small dark room with one door and no windows. It even appeared as if the metal walls had been painted black and it gave Goten a sudden feeling of clostrophobic. 

  
  


"What do you think-"

  
  


He was cut off by a screen in the corner flickering to life and showing the face of a young woman. She was not ugly, by any standards, but she wasn't the next pinup girl either. Brown hair, not chestnut or auburn, but brown that circled her face and was slightly set off by a green cap that rested on top of her head. Her face was very stern and there were no smile lines by her cruel green eyes. She looked down her nose through the screen and Goten wondered how many years she has been doing that.

  
  


"I demand silence in my presence. You would do good to follow my every rule and command. You can not imagine the horror that can be brought against you. Right now you are in a Ki dampening room and I assure you that it is the highest quality. You will not be able to use your Ki in any way. For now I will let you rest, but be prepared for my return."

  
  


The screen clicked out and the boys glanced at each other in the empty room. Neither wanted to be the one to start talking. One minute they were arguing like normal teenagers and the next they were abducted by aliens just like those in cheep sci-fi films.

  
  


Goten sat down heavily in the corner and leaned against the wall. He did not want to be anywhere near Trunks at this particular moment. He had basically said that he no longer wanted to be friends. They had been friends their entire lives and all of the sudden he doesn't want that anymore. Goten could take a hint, he didn't need for it to be blared over a loudspeaker.

  
  


"So why did you do it?"

  
  


"Why did I do what Goten?"

  
  


"Why were you telling me you don't want to be my friend."

  
  


"Look, I wasn't telling you that, I do want to be your friend I was just saying that I am going to be busy."

  
  


"Oh, ya, sure, well don't you worry about my feelings, I can take it. You don't need to lie to me."

  
  


"Damn it Goten, I am not lying to you!"

  
  


"Whatever."

  
  
  
  


*****

  
  


"What do we do now?" Goten said, too bored to stay silent.

  
  


"I don't know. Just wait I guess."

  
  


"Wait for what?"

  
  


"I don't know!" Trunks snapped.

  
  


"Fine, fine…. Trunks?"

  
  


"What?"

  
  


"I want us to be friends. You have always meant a lot to me."

  
  


"Thanks. The feeling's mutual."

  
  


"Than why did you…."

  
  


"I didn't! You took it the wrong way!"

  
  


"I thought that was what you were getting at."

  
  


"Well, it wasn't, okay?"

  
  


The screen flicked on again and the boys stopped their argument to look up to it.

  
  


"It is oh, so nice to see you are friends again, but be warned that we will not be getting to you for a while, so stay calm."

  
  


The screen turned off and the boys exchanged a glance, they could hear everything they said, and could probably see them too.

  
  
  
  


"Do you think they know Spanish?" Trunks asked, switching to his second best language.

  
  


"I don't know Spanish."

  
  


"You're speaking it right now."

  
  


"I know a little Spanish. Not much." Goten's accent was not as good as Trunks's and he stumbled for the words.

  
  


"How did you get by two years of Spanish without knowing that much? You were doing good in the class."

  
  


"I forgot it."

  
  


"Bull shit, you remember."

  
  


"So I am not Mr. Straight As."

  
  


"Goten, what language do you know?"

  
  


"You know what language."

  
  


"Great, real indiscrete."

  
  


Goten rolled his eyes and refolded his arms across his chest. It was making him very nervous, sitting around, waiting for whatever the head lady had in mind for them. She was obviously in charge, but what could she want with them?

  
  


All of the hopeful thoughts had pushed their way out of his head and left him with the most farfetched ideas. There was no way they could have been brought for those reasons, or so he reassured himself.

  
  


"Trunks?"

  
  


"Ya?"

  
  


"I know pig-Latin."

  
  


Trunks rolled his eyes and rested his head on the wall behind him. His eyes had long since adjusted themselves to the gloom and now the murky surroundings were effecting his attitude. The bleakness of their situation was reaching him and though he tried to remain outwardly in control, his mind was racing through anything that he could imagine to try to get them out of their situation. So far, nothing had come.

  
  


There was no doubt that the door was lock and their only source to outside the cell was the vid window of the mistress.

  
  


Trunks snorted to himself, that had sounded right, the mistress. The lady in charge of the ghetto operation to kidnap the two demi-Saiyans and lock them into a dark room on board a space ship.

  
  


"What are you thinking about?"

  
  


"The mistress, that's a good name for her isn't it."

  
  


"Ya, it is. How do you think we should prepare ourselves? We don't even know what is going to happen."

  
  


"Well, it's best to keep a cool head and deal with the situation as it arises. That way you wont let anything take you by surprise and you can be prepared for whatever you need to deal with."

  
  


"You've been around your mom too much, you know that?"

  
  


"Ya, I know."

  
  


The screen clicked on in the corner, startling both boys and instantly grabbing their attention. The mistress glared down at them and pursed her lips, it almost seemed like she was trying to contain her facial expression, but had to resort to physically calming herself.

  
  


"While you are our guests here," Trunks mental snorted at the title, "you will be inclined to show the same courtesy as every other person in your situation. As such you will be expected to perform to standards and nothing else will be tolerated. If you please us you will live, if not, well I suppose I could leave you to your own imaginations."

  
  


"What are you talking about?"

  
  


"I demand a service. Right now. You have no choice but to obey and you better."

  
  


"I don't know what you are talking about, get to the point."

  
  


"DON'T PUSH IT!!! Your task it simple and I expect a lot out of you." Her eyebrow quirked and Trunks found it amazing how she had transitioned between angry and calm. "It is the same thing that I ask off all boys staying here. To put on a decent show. You two know each other well enough, you should have no problem, now, in case you haven't figured it out, I want you both to… Oh, how do I put this delicately? Fuck. I want you two to fuck the shit out each other and I wont settle for less."

  
  


The picture clicked out, and the boys were left staring, wide-eyed, at the blank wall. Of all things they had imagined that they might be expected of, this was far off the mark.

  
  


They turned their heads and looked at each other, across the room, their jaws still hanging open and the whites of their eyes majorly showing.

  
  


"She wants us to…"

  
  


Trunks merely nodded.

  
  


"We have to…." Goten said, still trying to get it out. "What are we going to do?"

  
  


Trunks blinked and managed to get a minor hold on his sanity. "I don't know. She threatened us with death… but I don't know."

  
  


"We're going to have to…. Do…." Goten slammed his fist on the ground, frustrated. It was asking too much for anyone to expect such things, and on command above all. How could she just expect two perfectly straight boys to but on a show like she wanted. "How do you think she is going to kill us?"

  
  


"I don't know, maybe she will make it quick and painless."

  
  


"She probably wont. What kind of sadistic bastard is this woman?"

  
  


"The worst kind, a perverted sadistic bastard, or bitch to be more precise."

  
  


"Ya. But Trunks?"

  
  


"Hmm?"

  
  


"I don't want to die."

  
  


Trunks sighed, "I don't either, but the only other option is to…."

  
  


"I know… We need a plan, something that will get us out of here, at then we can fight."

  
  


"I can't think of anything. The room seems solid and there is no way we can get around to find a weakness without getting caught. If they see us snooping they will come in and kill us."

  
  


"So we need to make it seem like we are not snooping. How do we do that?"

  
  


Trunks was silent for a long moment, taking in the information and trying to formulate a plan. The only option left his throat twisted and his brain screaming that it would do no good to their friendship.

  
  


"Goten."

  
  


"Ya."

  
  
  
  


"Kiss me."

  
  


Goten blanched and nearly fell over. His eyes were wide and he looked at his friend with a mixture of shock, surprise, and embarrassment. "You have got to be kidding me."

  
  


Trunks kneeled in front of him and lowered his head slightly. "You said we needed to give them a distraction."

  
  


"I didn't mean that kind."

  
  


"What else is there?"

  
  


Goten was at a loss, there was nothing else he could think of. But how would kissing Trunks solve anything? "But how-"

  
  


Before he could finished, Trunks leaned forward and pressed his mouth against his. The kiss was very heisted and impersonal and Trunks was quick to pull away. "Just play along." He whispered before planting another dry kiss on his lips.

  
  


Goten's throat clenched and he pushed on Trunks's shoulders. Trunks fell backward several feet and Goten gaped in surprise. He hadn't thought he had pushed that hard but Trunks was now sprawled out on his back with a stricken look upon his face.

  
  


"Trunks I'm sorry, I just-" Goten had risen to his feet to help his fallen friend, but once again he was cut off. Trunks leaped to his feet and slammed Goten into the wall, forcing his mouth onto his. The kiss hadn't changed, it was still distant and painfully obvious that Trunks was disconnected from it.

  
  


Lowering his eyebrows and applying another push on Trunks's shoulders, Goten separate himself from his friend and quickly moved across the room. Trunks leisurely circled him stopping in front of the door for a moment before turning to advance again. Goten walked away from him, staying a safe distance and forcing Trunks to circle him like a pair of wrestlers trying to decide how to go about starting.

  
  


The turned a full circle and Trunks was once again in front of the door. He slipped his hand behind him and fiddled around for a second before continuing to circle. Recognition finally registered in Goten's eyes and he halted his effort for evasion. Trunks made quick working of closing the distance between the two and moved up close to Goten, almost a breath away. 

  
  


"There's no hope left." Trunks said before he knotted his hand into Goten's hair and forced his head back he, then dropped his mouth onto Goten's in his first real kiss. 

  
  


Goten's eyes widened for a moment before drifting closed and slowly giving himself to the passionate kiss he was being given. It was so different from the other kisses. They had contained nothing but disgust and reluctance in them; this kiss was intense and held nothing back. Trunks moved his lips over his and his wet tongue trailed across Goten's lips.

  
  


Shocked, Goten gasped and that was all Trunks needed. He delved his tongue inside his mouth and savored the sweet wetness he found there.

  
  


His stomach was in knots and his heart was racing. Something was wrong with his mind and he was convinced that he was going mad. He hadn't intended it, hadn't even considered it, and now he was kissing Goten with all his passion and skill. The taste of his mouth was driving him wild and he deepened the kiss to lick all of the intoxication out of his mouth. 

  
  


Goten's jaw finally relaxed and his tongue tentatively reached out to stroke his. It struck Trunks just how inexperienced he was and strangely that deepened his passion. 

  
  


He had seen him with girls, his arms around them, holding them close and sporting that goofy grin. And he had always suspected that he would have gotten intimate with one of them. With his tongue slowly following his example, he realized that though Goten had girls, he had never gone anywhere with them.

  
  


Trunks fisted his hand into the back of his shirt and drew Goten nearer. He muffled something, but Trunks hardly paid attention to that as he allowed his hands to journey over Goten's soft flesh, dipping under clothing and dragging his fingertips over flesh that tensed as he touched it.

  
  


Goten seemed nothing but tense, his muscles clenching as they were touched, but when Trunks touched them again, they softened and melted under his experience. Goten didn't have the courage to explore on his own, but he gasped and moaned all the same with what Trunks was doing to him.

  
  


At one point, everything went red. And the boys lay in each others arms, spent and contented. 

  
  


Trunks pulled Goten closer and nuzzled his nose into his thick black hair. "Meine Leibe" he murmured as he lost himself to sleep.

  
  


*****

  
  


The door snapped open with a resounding clang that awakened the slumbering lovers. They opened their eyes and unfurled themselves from each other by inches. Still clasped lightly in each others arms, they turned their heads to see several Nettema entering the cell, their leader entering behind them.

  
  


They couldn't tell whether she was pleased or pissed. Her expression contained a mixture of both and they wondered what it could mean. She had not been specific on her description of punishment, they could only pray as to what she would do.

  
  


Several of her goons came forward and tore the boys from each other's grasp, ripping them away from the comfort and into the cold air around them. Goten shuttered at the loss and attempted to wrap his arms around himself. The goons would not allow him the comfort and pulled his arms back behind him. A couple of the goons had done the same to Trunks, and they looked in each other's eyes, silently assuring the other that everything would be all right.

  
  


The lady that they had witnessed from afar, via the screen, stepped forward, between the boys.

  
  


"That was quite a show you put on. I'm impressed. Usually I would keep such entertainment around for a while, keep the crew happy, but you displayed so much passion that my crew would not be able to function. So I'm afraid I must punish you anyway." She pressed her cold hand to Goten's cheek, stroking him softly. "Sorry." She purred and stepped back. "Get them some clothes."

  
  


A goon that had been standing by the door stepped forward and presented two simple white clothes, almost loin clothes. He wrapped a cloth around Goten's waist and lightly clasped it at his hip. The material fell loosely down his legs to mid thigh, leaving a opening up the side of his leg to the clasp. A similar cloth was placed on Trunks and Goten couldn't help the blush that arose to his cheeks at seeing his new lover in such a state.

  
  


But then the merriment ended.

  
  


A knife was pulled from its sheath and prominently displayed between the two boys. Goten strained his muscles, preparing for the pain that he knew was going to come. The head mistress took the knife from the goon and held it out away from her, pointing the curved tip toward Goten. 

  
  


Goten raised his eyes to the ceiling, avoiding the sight of the knife held toward him. The mistress placed her chilled fingers on his jaw, tightening her grip and lowering his face to look at her. He looked into her eyes and saw the burning passion of seeing others suffer. The fire that spoke of not sexual release but of the release of blood.

  
  


She raised the knife to his cheek and nestled the blade against his flesh. "I want to see your eyes." She murmured as she pressed slightly on the blade and pulled it down slowly, leaving a thin cut across his cheek that swelled red and dropped heavy balls of red down the side of his face. "Such beauty deserves to be destroyed."

  
  


The mistress flicked the knife from one hand to the other and jerked the tip across his other cheek, leaving twin cuts across his face. She leaned forward, sticking out her pink tongue and dragged the wet surface across the blood on his cheek. Her lips incased around her tongue and she leaned her head back, purring in the back of her throat and savoring the taste.

  
  


Suddenly she broke off her contact and moved away. "Chain him" was all she said and Goten found himself surrounded. He was pulled back against the walls and his arms were lifted above his head. Shackles appeared out of no where and he was lifted off the ground slightly. His arms were spread so far his shoulders ached and pulled and he clenched his jaw, preparing for the pain of having his shoulders dislocated. But that pain never came, his shoulders where left in tack as they moved to his feet to lock them in a pair of chains that pushed his ankles against each other smartly.

  
  


Goten looked over to see Trunks's pained eyes on him. He was held back by several goons and could not move. But his eyes remained on him as he watched Goten being prepped for whatever torture the mistress came up with. 

  
  


"Thirty." The Mistress said and a goon moved up to Goten's side. Goten kept his eyes on Trunks as a whip was unraveled and swung around. 

  
  


The tip snapped and Goten threw his head back, closing his eyes against the sudden pain across his chest. The whip cracked again and Goten set his jaw. The pain was searing into him and he could not block out the intense ripping across his flesh and the bruises that were forming across his ribs from the impacts.

  
  


Again and again the whip struck out at him, leaving long lines of blood across his chest and stomach. His fists tightened and he strained his arms, pulling the chains taunt and hardening their hold on his wrists.

  
  


For the last time the whip fell across his waist and the goon stepped back, smirking at his work. Goten kept his eyes closed for several seconds, blocking out the pain and preparing himself for what he knew to come next.

  
  


The mistress leered at him and clacked her tongue disapprovingly. "You didn't cry out." She said, "I expected the pain to be too much for you. Oh well, your loss I suppose. I will just have to take this to extremes. Landel, the cross."

  
  


Moments passed in the cell, silent but for the sound of Goten's pained breathing. The whip had struck deep and he felt a pain at the base of his lung. But that was not to be his problem, and he saw the goon named Landel enter the cell leading three more goons behind him. With them they hefted a giant wooden cross into the room and they leaned it against the wall opposite Goten.

  
  


The three left the room, leaving it more open for Goten to gaze at the cross. There were several puncture marks at each of the ends and Goten could just imagine that they use to be drenched in blood.

  
  


The goons holding Trunks jerked him forward and Goten's eyes widened. The mistress stepped up to him and whispered in his ear, just loud enough for Goten to hear. "You, my little saint, shall suffer for the errors of your lover."

  
  


The mistress walked backward, standing by Goten's side. She lifted her head in a silent order and the goons pulled Trunks over to the cross. His arms were raised and he was lifted up to reach the ends of the cross plank. Trunks's neck tightened and he set his face. His eyebrows lowered and for an instant he resembled his father. All but for the striking blue of his eyes that were locked onto Goten's face.

  
  


A metal stake was taken from a pack and meticulously positioned at the very center of Trunks's palm. A sledge hammer was raised and pulled back. With a quick movement, it was swung forward in a perfect arc to the spike. It impacted with brute force and drove the stake into Trunks's hand. He gasped in pain and scrunched his face in hard set lines of his agony. The goon stepped back and Trunks gaped, the pain finally lessening to allow him desperate gulps of air.

  
  


And then a stake was raised to his other hand. Trunks turned his face to the side and shut his eyes. His body jerked at the stake was driven into him, but he didn't cry out. Blood was dripping across his palms and splattering the ground beneath him, leaving deep stains of red that would no time soon disappear. 

  
  


Goten leaned his head back, hitting the back against the wall. He ached inside for the pain his lover was enduring, his fists clenched once again, his own pain forgotten. His eyes snapped open when he heard a soft whimper, and he returned his gaze to across the room.

  
  


The goon was on his knees, placing Trunks's feet together, one foot over the other and pointed down to the ground. A stake was placed at the center, directing in the middle of both his feet. The mallet swung low and drove the stake hard through his feet, but not entirely into the wood. The mallet was raised again and brought down hard, driving the stake the rest of the way into the wood and through his feet.

  
  


They stepped back and Goten was presented with a perfect image of his love draped across the cross. In his own love and fancy he pictured him as a purple haired Jesus, sacrificed on the cross and bleeding the blood of salvation. 

  
  


Chills ran up Goten's spine and he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He was left moving his jaw to silent words, words that he did not even know the meaning to.

  
  


The mistress smirked and crossed the room in three long strides to stand at Trunks's side. He was just recovering from his pain and his breath was quick and harsh. "My purple haired god, must you endure such pain because your lover will not speak out? Must you go through such agony?" She glanced at Goten and returned her gaze to Trunks. "Yes."

  
  


Once again she stepped back and the goon holding the mallet moved into the spot in which she had been standing. He set the mallet on his shoulder and waited for the signal. Goten's eyes widened with realization and his breath quickened in fright and pain for his lover.

  
  


The mistress turned her eyes from him and gave a single nod.

  
  


The mallet was raised high into the air and then pulled down in a fast and hard arc aimed for Trunks's shins. Goten yelled and struggled against his chains, tears were pulled from his eyes and he screamed out Trunks's name. 

  
  


A crack range out from his legs and Trunks threw his head back and screamed. His legs shattered and swelled instantly, the skin turned purple just as the mallet was taken from his broken shins. Trunks gave one last garbled scream and dropped into unconsciousness. 

  
  


Tears streamed down Goten's cheeks, his spirit finally broken, and he cried for the pain of his lover. He didn't even notice when a goon approached him, or when he sent his fist into Goten's stomach. His eyes remained on Trunks and his heart screamed out. His legs where shattered, the bone was twisted and splintered, he could see it even through the skin. It didn't register when another fist was sent into the same spot on his stomach. He only saw Trunks face, pale in the almost non existent light, but just as white as linen and beaded with sweat, his expression twisted in a contorted fashion revealing the pain he felt even in the darkness outside of waking. The third punch went unnoticed.

  
  


The mistress placed her hand on Trunks's chest, softly stroking the lean muscles and tracing the groves around his pecks and stomach. Goten felt bile rise in his throat and the fourth punch landed deep into his stomach.

  
  


This time he felt it and he hitched forward around the fist. He could feel something tear inside of him, but he paid it no mind as he passed out.

  
  


*****

  
  


Goku looked at the boys for a long moment before bending to tend to their wounds. They were both deadly pale and there was blood everywhere. He gently cleaned some of the blood off Goten's chest and flinched at how deep the cuts were. While several were shallow and surrounded by dark purple bruises, others had cut deeply into his skin, severing the flesh a good inch inward. 

  
  


Trunks's hands and feet had already been cleaned and bound, taking great care to shift his legs as little as possible. They had already been moved a great deal, but he wanted to spare them additional breaking. 

  
  


There weren't enough bandages to cover every one of Goten's cuts, so he bound the most severe and left the others open to the air. The large dark bruise on his stomach had concerned him, but he had left it alone to tend to his bleeding.

  
  


Pain was etched into his face and Goku shut his eyes to block out the wave of anger. The damage was done and both boys were avenged, there was nothing more he could do.

  
  


Goten's eyes flew open and his chest lurched before he broke into a fury of coughs that had him shaking and choking. Goku jumped to his side and rolled him over. He continued to cough as splatters of blood rolled out of his throat and dropped to the floor. 

  
  


Goku supported his weight as he continued to choke up blood. When the coughing ceased, Goten lapsed back into unconciouness, but his breathing was sharp and labored. He rolled his son onto his back, his concern increased and he returned his eyes to the bruise on his stomach. Gently he probed his fingers around the area and searched for any signs of further damage.

  
  


His fingertips brushed over the top of the bruise and Goten was sent into another fit of coughing. Goku rolled him back onto his side and patted his back. His stomach lurched and heaved and Goten vomited up blood. More and more blood was dropped onto the ground and Goku began to feel the panic build up inside of him. 

  
  


By the time Goten stopped heaving, Goku was almost hysterical. He propped Goten up on his side and headed for the door. Glancing back he noticed the large puddle of blood that had accumulated on the floor was slowly spreading outward, sucking up the clean floor and covering as much area as possible.

  
  


Goku left the room and practically ran into the control room where Vegita sat silently in the driver's seat.

  
  


"Goten's hurt really bad. There's blood everywhere. We have to hurry."

  
  


Vegita rolled his eyes. "We are going as fast as we can, Kakorot. Have patience."

  
  


"But Goten, he's been-"

  
  


"Shut up, Kakorot."

  
  


Goku froze and looked closely at Vegita. His eyes were set in a cold line and his lips were drawn into a frown. But he could detect a slight twitch in his eyebrow, giving his nervousness away.

  
  


"Vegita, what happened to you. How do you know about all this?"

  
  


Vegita leaned his head back and his eyes took on a distant look, as if he was searching for the memory. "I was young when I went to Freeza. You know that. He had made some kind of deal with the Nettema, a contract that would allow him into a regent of space without having to destroy every one of their ships he found. The bastards were everywhere. They wanted to collect young boys from various races, like they did with Trunks and Goten.

  
  


"They would use them for the entertainment of the crew and if they were pleased, they would either keep them or send them to some planet. If they were not pleased, they would do what we saw back on the ship."

  
  


Vegita's voice was monotone and distant, as if it was not his history or memory he was talking about, just some story he had heard and was passing on. "Freeza needed supply them with several insurance markers, boys who were too young to be of use, but he would want when they got older."

  
  


"Oh, Vegita, I didn't know you were sent, I mean I suspected but-"

  
  


"Shut up, Kakorot! I'm telling the story."

  
  


"Oh, right, go ahead."

  
  


Vegita grunted and returned to his emotionless voice. "I was sent to the Nettema ship, but I was too young to even be of use to them. But they kept me around. The mistress would allow me anyplace on this ship, but in the main control room, she made it quite clear that it was off limits. That didn't stop me, however, the first chance I got I snuck into that room and found out why I had been kept out."

  
  


Vegita shook his head and paused for a moment. "They were sick perverted merchants who had some kind of business running based on videos they made from sex. They would kidnap boys and force them to do their will under the threat of death, and then sell the videos to any freak who was interested.

  
  


"I couldn't believe what I saw, and my distraction got me caught. The mistress didn't know what to do with me at first, but she soon came up with something." He paused once again and continued, obviously leaving out a part. "It was years later I was sent back to Freeza, I had to make myself useful once again in order to survive. But purging was something I didn't mind doing, I would rather see others hurt than…"

  
  


"Vegita… is that what they did to… did they make…"

  
  


"Probably."

  
  


Goku's eyes were wide. He hadn't expected this kind of story. The Nettema were obviously not people he would get along with, and he was furious over what they did to his son, but he never suspected what they had done to Vegita, or to the boys before they got there.

  
  


*****

  
  


Goten fazed in and out of conscienceness. His head swarmed with pain and the metallic twang of blood was in his mouth. He groaned once before falling back onto the mattress. Pealing his eyes open, his sight landed on Trunks and Goten felt a sharp pain in his heart. 

  
  


It amazed him how much had happened in such a short period of time. And now he would have to press down his new feelings and continue as normal.

  
  


He didn't think he could do it. The depression was already setting in and he could almost see himself for the rest of his life, a cold bachelor who forever laid his eyes on something he could never have.

  
  


After a glance at the blood drenched floor, Goten amended himself, if he lived.

  
  


That thought didn't create the fear that it had just earlier that day (that day or the day before?). His fear of dying had driven him, but now he was welcoming it. It was so different, letting go, it felt safe and enduring. He could always rely on the finality of death, like he couldn't rely on the happiness of life.

  
  


That happiness was laying right next to him, untouchable.

  
  


His heart was full of love, but with it came the realization that it wasn't returned. It couldn't be. They had used each other to survive and now, though he loved him, he could never have him. Trunks could never love him.

  
  


Goten squeezed his eyes shut and blocked out the tears. The pain in his heart was overpowering the pain in his body and he thought he would die at that instance. He would welcome it.

  
  


The ship lurched beneath him and he felt it rock before settling. They must have landed.

  
  


Goku charged through the door, followed closely by Vegita. He suddenly found himself being lifted off the bed and into his father's arms. Vegita had Trunks over his shoulder and placed a hand on Goku's arm.

  
  


The next instance they were in the emergency room and in a floury of white he found himself on a stretcher and moving rapidly through the hospital. Words flew above him, but he ignored them, thinking instead of his own oblivion.

  
  


A mask was placed over his mouth, and he knew no more.

  
  


When he next woke he was in a white, box like room and was surrounded by various beeping noises. Goten paid no attention to them.

  
  


He was alive, for some reason they had saved him and left him only to die on the inside. They couldn't possibly know what his life would be like, but he knew. The pain in his heart told him, oh, he knew.

  
  


What could Trunks possibly think of him? He had initiated the… incident, but he was only doing it to save his life. Like he said, they were lost anyway. Above all, they had only done it to save their lives, nothing more. Trunks probably thought he was the lowest scum by now, perverted and shameful.

  
  


But it had felt so good, if had felt good to be held in his arm and cherished, like he was actually loved. It was all nonsense, to be sure, but for a moment, for a heartbeat, he could actually believe that Trunks had loved him. 

  
  


Goten's lips tingled in remembrance of his kisses. He raised his hand and brushed his fingers over his dry lip, remembering what Trunks's mouth had felt like.

  
  


He had fallen, he had known it, but now more than ever he felt it. Everything had made sense when he was in his arms, and he had finally realized what he had been holding back, why he had so desperate for his attention and his love. He had loved him all along. 

  
  


It was a remarkable realization, but he had discovered it while they lay in each other's arms. 

  
  


But it could never go anywhere. Trunks didn't feel the same way and he would have to live with that. 

  
  


Goten's heart broke in that instance.

  
  


Trunks woke up screaming. His voice was wretched from his throat and he flailed his arms out at his sides in a desperate attempt to ward off those administering the pain. Voices rose around him and he felt hands on him, pushing him down and he screamed louder. The pain of his legs was screaming in his ears, drowning out any coherent thought and leaving him left in a world of blinding white pain.

  
  


The prick in his arm was unnoticed, compared to the greater pain of his shattered legs. More shouts came from overhead and hands were all over him, pressing him down and holding him still.

  
  


His screams died away, leaving him panting and clenching his fists against the pain. Slowly, oh so slowly it felt like eternity eroded into a few minutes, the pain began to subside. Trunks was left awake, staring up at a ceiling that never seemed to stop moving and settle into place.

  
  


The feeling of vertigo slowly subsided, much like the pain, but Trunks knew they would never entirely go away. 

  
  


A man came up beside him, dressed in a long white rob that symbolized his position as a doctor and looked down at him through thick glasses.

  
  


"Trunks? How are feeling young man?"

  
  


"Like my legs have been put through a blender." Trunks groaned.

  
  


"That they very well might have been. You were in bad shape when we got you. Your lower legs were shattered and broken in over twenty places. We had to put you in emergency surgery and put metal bars in your legs to help position the bone and aid in the healing. Your hands and feet were harder, but we closed the holes and they should be back to normal in about a month."

  
  


"Will I… ever walk again?"

  
  


"It's hard to say. With extensive therapy and a lot of time, maybe, but if you ever do you will have a very pronounced limp."

  
  


Trunks laid his head back and looked up at the ceiling. The doctor had been trying to lesson the truth, like they always do, what he really meant was that he didn't think Trunks would ever walk again. His legs had been shattered so badly they thought that if he placed any pressure on the bone they would snap.

  
  


"You should consider yourself lucky, young man, you came out alive and healthy. Well, you came out better than that other boy they brought in."

  
  


"What?" Trunks head snapped to the side. "How is he? What happened? Will he be all right? What was wrong?"

  
  


"Whoa, calm down, he's okay, he survived. He came out with major internal bleeding and a couple of his organs had shut down, but we fixed that right up. He's doing fine and is in the recovery room."

  
  


"Can I see him?"

  
  


"No, I'm afraid not, you still need to recover some and let your legs mend, then we can take you to see him."

  
  


Trunks turned his head and looked back up at the ceiling. Trust in doctors to never tell you everything. Sometimes you have to read between the lines and make your own synopsis. The doctor turned and left the room, recognizing the silent dismissal. Trunks was alone in the room, staring up at the ceiling.

  
  


Life was never going to be the same, he knew it. He would be confined to a wheelchair, possibly forever, and as it was he was going to be missing a lot of school. There goes valedictorian. 

  
  
  
  


But more than that, he had no clue what he was going to say to Goten, how could he explain his motives, his reasons? He didn't even know what they were himself. One minute he was trying to save their lives and the next he was wrapped up in the passion and love.

  
  


It was so strange, these things that have come between them, how many people could say that their friendship was ruined by intimacy? Certainly not many with their unique situation.

  
  


He just couldn't decided what he felt anymore.

  
  


It was days later that he was able to sit up, careful not to move his legs or put too much pressure on his hands. The doctor had promised he would be able to see Goten, and he was ready and waiting for the chance to see for himself how his friend was doing.

  
  


By the time the nurse finally came in, Trunks was already frantic and more than ready to get out of bed. The large bulky, male nurse eased him out of the bed and placed him, gently, in the wheelchair. A blanket was draped across his lap, hiding the large white casts on his legs.

  
  


Goten was far down the hallway, almost on the other side of the hospital. Trunks took in everything around him, savoring the new sights after seeing nothing but his own room for the last three days. At least it wasn't stark anymore, several of his friends had come to visit and brought balloons and flowers. It had livened up the place and he was very grateful for that.

  
  


The nurse pushing the wheelchair finally stopped, in front of a lone room at the end of the hallway. Trunks held in his breath as the door was opened and he was wheeled in.

  
  


Goten lay on his bed, machines all around him beeping and clacking his vital signs. An oxygen tube lay across his face, pressed up against his nose and Trunks could see the pink scar across his cheek.

  
  


He didn't turn his head when he was rolled into the room, he just laid there, motionless and almost lifeless.

  
  


Trunks's heart was lodged in his throat. 

  
  


"Goten?"

  
  


His eyes opened and his head turned, just slightly toward him. And he could see the hollowness on his jaw and the loss of weight. But his eyes were the worst of all, they were dark and emotionless, dead from the inside. Trunks flinched and looked away, not able to face the death that he saw there.

  
  


"I'm sorry, Goten. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. Can you ever forgive me?"

  
  


He never got an answer, just that lifeless face looking out at him. Neither one spoke a word and then Trunks was taken back to his own room. His head hung low and what remained of his spirit was falling down around him.

  
  


It was all his fault, he had taken to great a risk and compromised their friendship. On top of that he had taken his virginity, and he knew that Goten had been saving himself. He should have never done anything to put Goten in that position, to let him get hurt, and lose his reason to live.

  
  


He had taken everything he had, leaving him with nothing.

  
  


How could he ever forgive himself?

  
  


*****

  
  


"Goten, your going to have to work harder then that. You missed your finals you know and you're going to have to make them up." Chichi said, hovering over him to make sure he got all his work done.

  
  


"Yes mom." Goten said, leaning over his book and trying to not get frustrated with his mom's irritating habits. He had gotten out of the hospital just days before and already she was nagging him about school and catching up.

  
  


Trunks had gotten out days before him, barely missing his visit, and he had not seen him since. It was almost as if he was avoiding him and it unnerved him, yet at the same time it got rid of his doubts. He really did hate him.

  
  


"Goten stop daydreaming, you need to work."

  
  


"Yes mom."

  
  


"You only have until tomorrow, then you will be going back to school, so you need to get it done now."

  
  


Goten nodded, not wanting to repeat himself for a third time. It annoyed him how his mother hovered like a bird, and it made it near impossible to concentrate. Trunks was probably having no problems getting ready for his make up finals, he probably had all the work done already and was taking it easy.

  
  


Shaking his head, Goten tried to get his mind off Trunks and back onto calculus. The numbers swam in front of his vision and twisted and turned into a figure with big eyes and long purple hair…

  
  


Goten smacked his forehead and scolded himself once again. He was never going to get this work done.

  
  


The next day during finals Goten groaned and berated himself for his weakness. The work was only partially finished and the test was nothing more than words on paper to him. It made no sense.

  
  


Trunks seemed to be getting along fine, sitting at his own desk, his homework finished and the test in front of him near completion. Goten laid his head down on his arms and looked at the boy sitting next to him. He was still going for valedictorian, even after his setback and injury.

  
  


He was still in a wheelchair, both legs in casts, but his hands no longer had bandages, only odd shaped scars. Goten reached up and conscientiously rubbed the scar on his cheek. Both of his cheeks had been marred by long bubbled scars that reached from the edge of his eye to just above his mouth. The scars on his chest were hidden by his shirt, but his face would forever show what had happened to him. And they would forever remind him.

  
  


Just after Trunks looked up and pushed his completed test away from him, the bell rang and everyone swarmed the hallway, pushing and shoving in order to get the best food at lunch. Goten was lost in the crowed and he couldn't find Trunks anywhere. People shoved and bumped past him, mindless to anything but their own needs.

  
  
  
  


"Yo! Goten, over here!" Chris yelled, waving his hand above the crowd to get his friends attention. Goten maneuvered his way through the crowd and made it to his side.

  
  


Chris had parked himself under a tree and was happily munching on his lunch when Goten sat next to him and started to pick at is own lunch.

  
  


"What's wrong with you, you're usually done by now."

  
  


Goten shrugged and continued to pick at his food.

  
  


"So what do you think, soon we will be out of here and getting on with our lives. I don't know about you but I can't wait to get out of here."

  
  


Chris had a habit of being long winded, and Goten hated it because that meant he got to smell his breath.

  
  


"Ya know basketball season has started and yours truly is captain of the bb team. You are coming to the games right?"

  
  


"I don't think so Chris."

  
  


"Oh, come on, you came to the rival game, why not?"

  
  


"I don't have anyone to go with."

  
  


"Why don't you go with that Trunks guy? I thought that was who you went to the game with."

  
  


"We're not friends anymore."

  
  


"Oh, well, you can still come and all, you know I wouldn't mind."

  
  


Goten shrugged again and frowned down at his food. It no longer looked appealing. Standing up, Goten dumped the food in the trash and walked away. Chris jumped up and ran to catch up to him.

  
  


"Come on Goten," Chris said, putting his arm around his friend. "I know you and Trunks were good friends, but it's over and all you can do it look to the future."

  
  


"Thanks Chris."

  
  


"Hey, what are friends for?"

  
  


Trunks frowned from his position beside the building. He wanted nothing more than to run over there and tear his arm off Goten. But in his present state he couldn't even walk over there.

  
  


He was frustrated. On top of being confined to a wheelchair, he had to put up with all the girls constantly bothering him about his ailment and trying to help him. He didn't want their help, much less their pity.

  
  


On top of that Goten was avoiding him and he had overheard him saying that they weren't friends. He had known it, true, but to hear him telling Chris hurt worse than any berating he had given himself.

  
  


Their friendship was truly over, and there was no way he could get his best friend back.

  
  


By the time Trunks got back from school, his legs were burning with pain and he could barely make it to the kitchen to get the medicine. He blindly groped for the bottle and knocked several other medicines off the counter. The white blaze behind his eyes that intensified with the pain in his legs was blinding him and his hands began to shake.

  
  


The bottle dropped from his hands to land with the others on the floor.

  
  


"Damn it!" Trunks said, slamming his fist onto the counter. He hunched over in his chair, spasming in pain, but having no way to get to his medicine. 

  
  


Someone grabbed onto his shoulder, forcing him to sit back in his chair. Through the haze, Trunks barely saw his father holding his hand out toward him. What he did see was the small white pills in the palm of his hand and he grabbed them and tossed them into his mouth and swallowed without water.

  
  


Vegita frowned down at him, then turned and walked out the door to his training room. Trunks looked after him before leaning back in his chair and waiting for the pain to subside.

The nights were perhaps the worst. Endless nights with only the pain to comfort him. And it was always the same.

  
  


His eyes shifted in and out of focus, balancing back and forth between reality and what any other person would pray was fantasy. But it wasn't. Not to him. It WAS reality, and it was his, his of ever lasting suffering and pain. Memories that would rise in his dreams and leave him shaken and hurting not only in his legs but in his heart.

  
  


Many times he cursed himself as the fool. A damned idiot who took the wrong move and used his best friend. That pain was perhaps greater than the constant burning pain of his broken appendages. At least that pain could be set aside with an assortment of drugs, painkillers and codeine that would numb his mind and make his legs disappear. That was the only way to live.

  
  
  
  


But his dreams were the worst. Those dreams that his drug induced mind would conjure up in his fitful rest. Images of blood and pain. Screams being ripped from Goten's throat, and a sledge hammer singing through the air on a direct course to destiny. 

  
  


Mostly, it was Goten that he saw, with a defeated look upon his face as he hiccuped and spasmed in his own pain. Then he would raise his eyes and look at him. And his own world shattered once again. The accusation, the betrayal, he just couldn't stand to see that in his eyes, couldn't stand to see what he knew was true.

  
  


His heart and his mind screamed for forgiveness, but he knew that was not possible. He didn't deserve forgiveness and for the rest of time he would sit there and swelter in his pain, wishing for a chance that he could never be given. 

  
  


He didn't deserve him, his smile, his happiness. He deserved the pain, the shattered legs and the wheelchair. He deserved constant doctor visits that would leave him with an extra spurt of red hot pain. Nothing mattered, not anymore, and he had come to terms with that.

  
  


His casts didn't come off until well into the basketball season and then his days were filled with strengthening exercises and regular visits to the hospital for physical therapy. It took weeks for him to relearn how to walk, and even then he could not walk for any great distance. Still, the doctors were impressed by his recovery. 

  
  


Trunks was not happy with his progress. He was going much too slow in his eyes and he wanted to be doing much better. So he worked on his own to strengthen his legs and practice walking.

  
  


He would sit on the living room floor and work on the exercises his doctor had showed him, then he would hang onto the back of the couch to help him take a few shaky steps. He felt like an enfant, just learning how to walk, and it irritated him.

  
  


Vegita walked into the room just as Trunks was balancing against the couch and taking slow steps. He just stood there, watching his son try to walk. 

  
  


Trunks stepped wrong and flinched as pain went up through his leg. He groaned and leaned over the couch to take his weight off his foot. That was enough walking for one day. Trunks carefully lowered himself to the ground and used his elbows to pull him backward toward his chair, dragging his legs in front of him.

  
  


Vegita swore under his breath and stalked over to his son. Without warning, he picked him up and dumped him back into the wheelchair. 

  
  


Trunks gaped and looked up at his father, shocked that he would be helping him.

  
  


"Shut your mouth, brat."

  
  


Trunks snapped his mouth shut and looked away before wheeling himself out of the room and toward the lab. Vegita followed. He hadn't paid any attention as to how his son was managing without his legs and he was suddenly curious how he had survived.

  
  


After some maneuvering, Trunks backed up into the doorway for the lab and opened the door. A ramp had been placed over the two steps so that he could roll down into the room. He had no way of closing the door once he was down the ramp, so he left it open and rolled over to the table in the middle of the room.

  
  


His project was still sitting there, unfinished. It didn't want to work, and he couldn't make it. Trunks tapped a screwdriver against the table while he thought. He had tried everything he could think of, and nothing had worked. 

  
  


Just like everything else in his life, he couldn't fix it. It was as broken as his legs and his friendship and he couldn't put it back together.

  
  


Trunks squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists. He was right when he had thought that nothing would ever be the same. He had lost everything in one quick, low blow. 

  
  


Goten was still avoiding him in school. He never even looked at him and he spent all of his time with Chris. The jock was always there with him, chatting, gossiping, and going on about everything.

  
  


His rival for valedictorian had taken advantage of his absence and had pushed ahead in the race and was now in the lead for the position. Without some serious work, he was going to loose his lifelong dream.

  
  


And on top of everything else, this damn machine would not say the damn words he had programed it to!

  
  


Trunks yelled and swept his arm across the table, sending the contents flying across the room and into the wall. The box went with them and made a satisfying thud when it hit. Trunks dropped his arms onto the table and tried to get a hold on his temper.

  
  


"I have been thinking." Vegita said from the doorway. Trunks looked up and waited. "It has been a year since we last used the dragonballs, why not simply wish for you to be better?"

  
  


Trunks's eyes brightened up and he moved his chair so he could look at his father. "Do you think it will work?"

  
  


"It should."

  
  


"Do you… could you use it on Goten too? Do you think it would get rid of the scars on his face?"

  
  


Vegita looked at his son for a moment before shrugging and leaving the room. Trunks glanced around the room at the mess and flinched, then looked up at the clock that had been mounted way up toward the ceiling where he couldn't reach it.

  
  


He sighed and rolled out of the room. If he was going to be in bed at a decent hour he was going to have to get started on the stairs soon. Bulma pulled long hours at CC and Trunks couldn't ask his father for help, so every night he lowered himself from his chair and dragged himself up the steps.

  
  


There were twenty-three in all, he had counted. For each step, he would place his elbows on the step and lift himself up. It took a long time and a lot of work to drag his body up the steep staircase, but it gave him a great upper-body workout.

  
  


An extra wheelchair had been placed at the top of the steps and Trunks was able to roll the rest of the way to his room.

  
  


He had never realized how much he had depended on his legs. Every task was made harder and he had to depend on himself to make sure he was able to do it. He couldn't take showers anymore, he couldn't stand in front of the mirror, and it was incredibly difficult to pull on a pair of pants.

  
  


When he was finally laid out in bed, he gave a sigh and tried to block out the constant ache from his legs in order to sleep. For a long time he laid there, thinking. He wasn't sure if the dragonballs would be able to help. They might heal his legs, but what about Goten? He had seen him rub the scar on his cheek and knew that he was very unsettled about the marks.

  
  


He hoped that the dragon would be able to get rid of them, he knew that would make Goten feel better and possibly be able to put the memory behind him.

  
  


A soft glow surrounded him, and Trunks blinked to try to clear his head. It wasn't like anything he had ever seen before and it settled over his legs and drew into them.

  
  


All at once the pain was gone and Trunks gasped. He bolted upright and ran his hands across his shins. They were healed. Even the scaring from the operation was gone, his legs where healed. Trunks shifted and placed his feet on the ground, taking a deep breath, he raised himself out of the bed and stood firm for the first time in months. They still felt weak, but they could support his weight.

  
  


Trunks collapsed back onto the bed and laughed. The chuckles faded away when he drifted off to sleep.

  
  


The crowd was roaring, the noise defend out anything thought and it rang in Trunks's sensitive ears. He groaned and rubbed his forehead that was slowly developing a pulsing headache. The small gym was overcrowded with people and it made him nauseous, but no one seemed effected by the fact that they were practically sitting on each other's laps. 

  
  


It was hot, the press of bodies made the air sweltering and damp, and the game had just barely started. The tall muscle bound lugs jogged up and down the court, dragging their bodies the length and then rolling their eyes before they stared again in the other direction.

  
  


Chris was slinking down the middle of the court, bouncing the ball slowly and grinning as if he was the god of basketball. Trunks frowned and turned away, he still could not find Goten among the crowd and he was rapidly growing impatient. 

  
  


It was the only reason he was there, he knew that Goten was probably there to see Chris, and so he had come to talk to him. They had not talked since the incident, and Trunks had decided that it was time to talk to him. He needed to know, and he was going to find out how he was to survive.

  
  


Graduation was coming up and he needed to make a decision quick. His mother had proposed an ultimatum, she would remain in the CC business, inventing and industrializing, but he would take on the position as president for marketing and distribution. The only catch was that the office was located so far away, he wanted to know if he had anything to hand on to, or if he should take the job.

  
  


It really hurt him. He remembered the comment he had made about being half way around the world, and now he had the opportunity, and he wasn't sure if he would go. Goten would decide that.

  
  


But he wasn't there.

  
  


Trunks sighed and walked out of the gym. It was going to be harder than he thought.

  
  


The frigid air outside the gym was a welcome transition from the heat inside. Taking a deep breath, Trunks walked across the parking lot and to his car. Everything seemed to desolate and dark, and for once he almost welcomed it.

  
  


That had been the last game of the season and there was only a month left until graduation. After that he would have to decide whether he was willing to live to far away.

  
  


If he did move, he was going to miss him. He would miss seeing his face brighten and the mischievous glint that caught in his eye when a not so innocent idea came into his mind. He would miss the way his hair would fall into his eyes whenever it got wet, and he would miss his smile, most of all he would miss his smile. That free smile that could brighten anyone's day, the smile that was a trademark Goten.

  
  


Hell, he would miss everything about him.

  
  


But all he could do was tough it out and bury himself in his work. It had always worked before in distracting him from his problems, but for once he felt like curling up in bed and never getting out. He was so tired. He knew it was a sign of depression, but he didn't care.

  
  


He just wanted to be with Goten.

  
  


*****

  
  


Graduation had finally arrived, the happiest day of a teenager's life. The stadium field was covered in a crowd of caps and gowns, each one of them wiggling and fidgeting through the ceremony. 

  
  


One after another, the Principle, the Class President, all stood and gave their speeches, more to impress the crowed than to inform their former classmates of their opinions. They had heard the speeches before during practice and were nothing but a delay on their moment. 

  
  


But he had one. Trunks had pulled off valedictorian and would be gracing the stand with his presence and speaking out his mind. 

  
  


Goten admired him from his seat near the back. Trunks was on the left front with the Bs, while he was in the right back with the Ss. But that didn't stop him from straining his neck to watch Trunks slowly rise from his seat and walk up to the podium.

  
  


He wasn't even nervous. He was the picture of calmness and decorum as he shuffled the papers in front of him and launched into his speech. Goten did even pay attention to what he was saying, but he watched Trunks's every move, memorizing the way his head would tilt slightly as he looked over the crowd, the way his eyes would sweep over everyone before returning to the paper to remind himself of a specific word to keep him going.

  
  


His voice rose and fell gracefully with his words, accenting them with emotions and giving him a more powerful speech compared to the monotone essays that had been read before him. He was so open and honest, for once he held nothing back and expressed himself openly through his words.

  
  


When he finished a roar went up through the audience and parents and friends jumped to their feet to applaud him. Trunks just turned and walked to his seat as calmly as he had when he had taken the stand.

  
  


His speech was the best one given that night, even from Goten's prejudiced opinion. 

  
  


The longest moment of the night came and he was forced to sit back in his seat and listen to one name after another being said and seeing that person walk up to the stand to shake the Principles hand. It seemed to drag on into forever.

  
  


Goten was in the seat on the inside of the row, so the graduate would walk right next to him before coming up to the stand. But everyone was content in where they were heading, so all he saw was their backside as they walked away from him and toward their goal.

  
  


All but Trunks.

  
  


As Trunks walked past, he turned his head and looked him straight in the eyes. A smile was on his face and his eyes sparkled. Goten's heart leapt up into his throat and he watched as Trunks continued on to the front and accepted his diploma. 

  
  


He had been avoiding him too long. That thought suddenly popped into Goten's head as he watched Trunks return to his seat. He had spent all of his time with Chris, when he should have been pursuing Trunks and begging for his forgiveness. 

  
  


So much time had been lost and it might be too late. Goten berated himself and mentally cursed his ignorant, slow mind. He could have found out from the start where they stood, but he was so afraid of rejection he had avoided it and found instead his loneliness and depression.

  
  


He might have lost everything in his cowardice and he would never forgive himself if he found out he had had the chance, and lost it. That would be far worse than anything that had happened to him at the hands of the mistress. It would be his own fault and that made it far worse than what anyone else might have done. He had no one to blame.

  
  


Goten was snapped out of his thoughts as the people in his row stood up and made ready to walk down the isle. He followed, mindless as to what he was doing. His mind kept swimming with what might have been and it was driving him deeper into the hole of depression. There was just so much that he might have had.

  
  


He didn't even notice he was walking down the isle until he looked to his right and saw Trunks smiling at him. Before he had passed completely, he saw Trunks tug on his ear and pat his chest in some kind of silent message.

  
  


Goten had no clue what he meant. He walked to the stand and accepted his diploma, then returned to his seat, still puzzling over what Trunks was trying to say to him.

  
  


They had many private messages to each other, born out of them being friends for so long, but he had never given a message like that before. It was like some odd cross between baseball and sign language.

  
  


He didn't know either.

  
  


Every year there is a party after graduation. The school called it Sober Grad, meaning that they would help them celebrate their graduation well into the morning without allowing them the pleasure of getting drunk. Everyone went and would enjoy themselves with the games, silent auction, raffles, and dancing. It was a giant party and everyone was to enjoy themselves.

  
  


But Goten wasn't enjoying himself. He had worked himself into a slump and sat in a chair in the back of the room. Couples passed by him, happily drinking their virgin margarita and gossiping.

  
  


What he wouldn't give to shake their world up a little bit.

  
  


"Goten?"

  
  


He jumped in his chair, not expecting the voice he heard. Trunks stood over him, his hair falling into his beautiful eyes and Goten pushed down the urge to tuck his hair behind his ear.

  
  


"Ya?"

  
  


Trunks smiled and seated himself in the chair next to him.

  
  


"I wanted to talk to you. I tried to tell you that during graduation, but I didn't think you understood."

  
  


"Oh, no I didn't. What did you want to talk about."

  
  


"I'm a jackass."

  
  


Goten blinked. "What?"

  
  


"I should have talked to you a long time ago, but I'm such a coward I couldn't."

  
  


Goten rubbed his hand against his cheek, a habit that he should have broken when he had woken up to find the scars gone. "I've been wanting to talk to you too."

  
  


"I'm so sorry Goten, for what I did to you. I shouldn't have taken advantage and I know I hurt you by it. No, don't say anything, I know you were hurt, I could see it in your eyes. But I just want to apologize and tell you that if you never want to see me again, that wont be a problem I can leave, all you need to do is say so."

  
  


"Do you want to leave?"

  
  


"I don't know. That all depends on you."

  
  


Goten sighed and looked around. It was getting well into the night and a group of people had made their way to the dance floor. Whoever was not there were along the edges, enjoying their night in other ways.

  
  


"It's getting late. What time is it?" Goten said.

  
  


"Late, about one am."

  
  


"Trunks, will you dance with me?"

  
  


Trunks blinked and looked at him. "Well, uh, I'm okay with it but everyone else, well, they might not…"

  
  


"Who cares? We're probably never going to see them again anyway."

  
  


"Right. Who cares." Trunks said and stood up, holding out his hand to lead Goten to the dance floor.

  
  


Several people looked at them funny when they put their arms around each other and danced to the slow song that was playing.

  
  


(The song is "You Belong to Me" by Jason Wade from the Shrek soundtrack)

*See the pyramids along the Nile  
Watch the sun rise from the tropic isle  
Just remember darling all the while  
You belong to me*

  
  


Trunks tightened his arm around Goten, pulling him close against him. His hands rubbed against the soft fabric of his shirt and ran along the muscle of his back. Fabric shifted through his fingers and he felt Goten shutter.

  
  


*See the market place in old Algiers  
Send me photographs and souvenirs  
Just remember when a dream appears  
You belong to me*

  
  


Goten wrapped his arms around his neck and placed his hand at the nap of his neck, just where the hair stopped and held him close, savoring the feel of him. His sent was invading his senses and making his head spin.

  
  


*And I'll be so alone without you  
Maybe you'll be lonesome too*

  
  


Their heads were side by side, brushing at the cheeks. They could almost feel the love radiating off of each other. It caused their hearts to rise to their throats and their stomachs to clench and flutter.

  
  


*Fly the ocean in a silver plane  
See the jungle when it's wet with rain  
Just remember till you're home again  
You belong to me*

  
  


"I'm so sorry Goten. Please forgive me… I love you."

"I love you too Trunks"

  
  


*Oh I'll be so alone without you  
Maybe you'll be lonesome too*

  
  


They pulled away slightly and looked into each other's eyes. Deep blue met chocolate brown. Their lips touched in just the slightest of kisses, barely brushing against each other. Goten fisted his hand into Trunks's hair and pulled his head in closer to give him a real kiss. Their mouths met and locked, their tongues mated and savored.

  
  


*Fly the ocean in a silver plane  
See the jungle when it's wet with rain  
Just remember till you're home again  
You belong to me *

  
  


The kiss was long and deep.

  
  


*Just remember till you're home again

You belong to me*

  
  


"You belong to me."

  
  


A gasp rang out around them and the boys looked up. They had forgotten about the people around them, who were then staring in shock. Every mouth was hanging open and they could see the whites in everyone's eyes. A wide circle separated the other teens from them, no one came closer than the dozen yards that distanced them. 

  
  


Trunks smirked and grabbed Goten's hand, dragging him out of the crowd, that melted away to let them pass, and through the door. The cool night air met them and Goten laughed.

  
  


"We sure gave them something to talk about."

  
  


"I'm not leaving."

  
  


"What?"

  
  


"I'm not leaving, I'm not going to go overseas and work for CC. I am staying right here, with you."

  
  


"Trunks, that is a great opportunity for you. You have been working for it your whole life! That was your reason for getting good grades and missing out on things, you can't just give that up!"

  
  


"Yes, I can. And I am, I am going to stay here. You're all that matters and I am not going to miss out even more because of something trivial."

  
  


"This isn't trivial. Now you're just being naive, you have to take the job! You're good at it, people love you and CC will prosper."

  
  


"But what about us? We missed out on so many months and were miserable the entire time. I don't want to be away from you again."

  
  


"Trunks…"

  
  


"I've already made up my mind, and I'm not going."

  
  
  
  


Trunks turned and started walking to the parking lot. Goten took a deep breath and followed him.

  
  


"Say Trunks, did you happen to see who was on the cheerleading team for next year? They still suck."

  
  


A confused and annoyed look was shot at him. "They always suck"

  
  


"But your not going to be able to see it because you are going to be halfway around the world working in a nice CC office."

  
  


"Goten I-"

  
  
  
  


"With me as your adoring secretary."

  
  


Trunks paused. "I can handle that. Just make sure you make good coffee."

  
  


"I can make a lot better than that."

  
  


Goten grinned and got into the car. This time, the drive home wasn't nearly long enough. Even with a not so quick stop on the way.

  
  
  
  


Yay! It's done! 

  
  


This one is for my dear friend, Bran, who nagged at me to write, write until I can't write anymore and then get my ass up and come up with another story. Without your persistence, this story would never have happened.

  
  


I apologize for some of the weirdness in this story, but I needed some of it to happen in order for it to work. I hadn't planned on it turning into a song fic, it just kinda jumped out and bit me, but I thought the song was appropriate and beautiful. And I apologize for the not-quite-lemon, but I just haven't been in the mood to write it, and it was the only thing keeping this story from getting out there. So maybe I will add it in later...

  
  


If anyone can tell where "Nettema" came from, I will write a sequel. I will give you a hint (a very good hint if I do say so), the last two letters should be in front, now you just need to name the piece of literature I stole it from...


End file.
